ing me behind." And he shouted, "Carrington!"

The voice rang for a moment in the remoteness of the hall above. Then
complete silence within. All in the hall remained motionless,
listening. The sound of the horses came fainter and fainter.

"Carrington! Help! I'm in the manor-house,--a prisoner!"

A look of despair came over his face. On Elizabeth's the suspense gave
way to a smile of triumph.

The sound of the horses died away.

CHAPTER VI.

THE ONE CHANCE.

Peyton staggered back to the settle and sank down on it, exhausted.
Elizabeth, hearing black Sam moving about in the dining-room, which
was directly north of the hall, bade Molly summon him. When he
appeared, she ordered him and Cuff to carry the settle, with the
wounded man on it, into the east parlor, and to place the man on the
sofa there. She then told Molly to hasten the supper, and to send
Williams to her up-stairs, and thereupon rejoined her excited aunt
above. When Williams attended her, she gave him commands regarding the
prisoner.

Peyton was thus carried through the deep doorway in the south side of
the hall into the east parlor, which was now exceedingly habitable
with fire roaring and candles lighted. In the east and south sides of
this richly ornamented room were deeply embrasured windows, with low
seats. In the west side was a mahogany door opening from the old or
south hall. In the north side, which was adorned with wooden pillars
and other carved woodwork, was the door through which Peyton had been
carried; west of that, the decorated chimney-breast with its English
mantel and fireplace, and further west a pair of doors opening from a
closet, whence a winding staircase descended cellarward. The ceiling
was rich with fanciful arabesque woodwork. Set in the chimney-breast,
over the mantel, was an oblong mirror. The wainscoting, pillars, and
other woodwork were of a creamy white. But Peyton had no eye for
details at the moment. He noticed only that his entrance disturbed the
slumbers of the old gentleman--Matthias Valentine--who had been
sleeping in a great armchair by the fire, and who now blinked in
wonderment.

The negroes put down the settle and lifted Peyton to a sofa that stood
against the western side of the room, between a spinet and the
northern wall. At Peyton's pantomimic request they then moved the sofa
to a place near the fire, and then, taking the settle along, marched
out of the room, back to the hall, closing the do